Follow the White Dragon
by blurr
Summary: A series of signs and oddities bring Chihiro face to face with the friend she once knew. Part Two is up.
1. Part One

disclaimer: I do not own Spirited Away.

* * *

**Follow the White Dragon**

_Part One_

written by blurr

* * *

The rawness of the night traced over everything in the small room. 

The sun's last rays filtered over the rim of each blind on the window; casting an intruding glow throughout, shifting the shadows from one side of the wall to the other.

The small, one room studio apartment was bare and cold. The sterile white walls were complimented with one rugged old brown loveseat that doubled for a bed-- purchased at the local flea market. In the back left corner was a beaten mattress that smelled of cigarette smoke and rose quart perfume. It had sat outside in the front lawn of an elderly lady who ate nothing but cold rice with warm milk on fifth street with a piece of cardboard cutout taped on; the word 'free' written in bold black marker.

The refrigerator light didn't work, the one above the stove flickered. The pantry was sparse with a few can soups and a bag of rice Chihiro's mother brought over the week before. She had a pint-size tin-container with red roses printed on the front;it had only a few cups worth of dried tea leaves left inside.

Sufficient to say, Chihiro was not well off.

College loans took liberties out of her small and quaint checks. Chihiro didn't exactly have a stable job. Despite her father's protest and warnings, she moved to Tokyo where she pursued a major in visual art and mastering in photography.

Life after college became extremely isolated and simple. She spent the early mornings working on a photo book with the theme of spirituality and nature. It was her passion. She would wake before the dawn's first rays to drive out of the city to local temples or forest. She would spend hours in the middle of nowhere, walking around with her camera in one hand, and her equipment bag in the other- until she would find a picture perfect subject. She always took great care printing these photos, trying her best to create a black velvety look and silver highlights; a special technique her professor showed her. Friendless nights and strong coffee drove her to perfect her techniques and skills. She pushed for perfection in everything she did.

However, time was pressed. She had been working on her book for a year.

The majority of her time Chihiro would spend afternoons taking prim and traditional family portraits. Or perhaps she would be the photographer for a wedding or local event. She would take her work into the late evening, printing in her bathroom that doubled for a darkroom. She would stuff an old towel by the bottom of the door to conceal the light coming through the crack. She carefully cut out tin foil to outline the window, which she duck taped into place. She found red light bulbs at the local hardware store, which worked perfectly as a filtered light. The few guest she did have over time to time were always unnerved by the strangedecoration and lighting optionsin the bathroom, but few ever mentioned it.

In the bathtub she had four dark gray plastic tubs that she would use for her chemicals to develop. Her vanity worked as the desk for the used enlarger her ex-professor and mentor had given her as a graduation gift. It didn't work as smoothly as it should, but it worked well enough to create professional and artistic prints.

Needless to say, it wasn't your bathroom from Home and Gardens.

Chihiro yawned, ignoring the night beckoning her to bed. She sat, knees bent, as she carefully measured her chemicals in the baking measuring cup. She was careful not to get it on her hands; the smell was nearly impossible to get off and it reminded her of rotten eggs and car fuel. Once measured, she poured it into the last gray tub, which was already filled with a precise amount of water. Using the tongs hung on the wall with a rusted nail, she rotated it through the mixture a few times to mix it well and thoroughly.

She wiped her hands on the blue apron her mother had given her as a moving out gift. Her mother had spent careful hours stitching Chihiro's favorite thing in the world into the bottom right corner: a white dragon. Neither her mother nor Chihiro knew the origin her fascination. It seemed to occur long ago when Chihiro had turned ten. Lastly, Chihiro pinned up her long and slightly wavy dark brown locks with a purple hair tie. The hair tie had been her favorite possession when she was just a girl, but she had no idea why. Over the years she held on to it more for a keepsake than anything else.

Hands wiped, hair pinned back- now she could begin.

She grabbed the matted photo paper that she had already burned her image into and dipped it in a precise angle into the first tub with the word developer written on the side. She went through the same motions her hands had done a million times without even thinking. She grabbed another pair of tongs hung on the wall above the bathtub, and gently started to push and pull the sheet back and forth.

Like magic, shapes and shades began to appear. After about a minute she held the picture up with the tongs, letting the excess developer drip back into the tub. She then put it in the next tray with the word "stop" written neatly on the side. Chihiro yawned while counting to ten. When ten seconds passed she moved the picture to the next tub with "fix" on the side.

Chihiro yawned again, this time glancing at the wall clock. She wanted to groan when she realized it was three thirty am already and she had yet to get a print she was satisfied with for even a demo.

She had plans to get morning coffee with a old friend who passing through town. Sighing, Chihiro decided to call it a night and get a few hours of sleep. She grabbed the last pair of tongs on the wall to retrieve the discarded photo when she saw something in the print that she had not noticed before. She pulled the photo out of the fix with the tongs and held it up to face level, tilting her head slightly to see the picture straight on.

What she saw created a slight frown to grace her features.

It was a photo of an old spirit stone next to a creak near her mother and father's home that she had taken a few weeks back when she went to visit. However, in the background there seemed to be someone, a male, almost transparent.

"That's odd," she said under her breath, murmuring to herself.

The man seemed to be standing above the water. Certainly that was merely the perspective of her camera, she reasoned. His expression was intense and dark, and yet almost curious at the same time. His hair was almost a dark greenish-black, several layers that framed his face perfectly. He was handsome; she'd give him that. But what was he doing all the way out there? And what was he wearing? She smiled at his over the top traditional clothing.

He wore a traditional white kimono withdark green hakama pants over the top. The zori sandals and ordori tabi socks were way too reserved for her own taste. He looked as though he probably worked for a temple, but there were no temples for miles radius to where she was at that time. What was he doing?

She was about to shrug it off and discard the photo when she saw something neatly stitched into his hakama pants: a white dragon.

Immediately her hand went to trace the one on her apron. While the two stitches were completely unlike, a strange familiar sensation swept through Chihiro. It left her so cold and completely lost, she sat there, picture in hand, for what must have been an hour.

* * *

"What do you mean you are canceling on me?" Came the frantic voice on the other end of the telephone. 

Chihiro fought the urge to roll her eyes and sighed. "Yukiko, its not the end of the world. I have to cancel. Something came up and I have to leave town immediately."

There was a thoughtful pause on the other end before an innocent, "What is more important than seeing an old best friend?"

"Work." Was Chihiro's quick reply.

"Work." Yukiko repeated. Chihiro smiled at the thought of Yukiko standing there in her hotel room, clad only in a bra and underwear as she was known to do, with one hip on her hand while glaring at the wall. "You always have to work. When are you going to have fun?"

"When the bills are paid and my book is published." She said bitterly. "Besides, I have fun."

"When?"

"What are you, my mother?" Chihiro laughed. "Come on, I'll be gone only for a few days."

"I'm in leaving in a few days." Yukiko whined. "Then what?"

"Then I guess we'll just have to meet later, ok? How about I'll come visit you in a week." She offered.

"A week?" Yukiko pondered that. "And you won't work? You'll have fun? With your best friend? Because that is what twenty two year olds do?"

"Yes. No work. Just fun. Twent two. Got it." Chihiro smiled. Spending some time with Yukiko did sound appealing. Few people could endear Chihiro's extreme introvert-ness like Yukiko could. "Deal?"

"Fine." Yukiko sighed."You win. Go work. Pay your bills. Make great art with that camera thing of yours."

Chihiro laughed. "I love you too. See you in a week."

"Oh, Chihiro?"

Chihiro quickly pressed the phone receiver back to her face. "Yes, Yukiko?"

"Did you hear about the comet that came by unexpected last night?"

Chihiro frowned. Didn't scientist have those all figured out? "No, I didn't."

Yukiko laughed. "Yeah. It was quite a sight. It was a bright white blaze in the sky that lasted only a minute. And do you know what they named it?"

Chihiro grinned at the enthusiasm in Yukiko's voice. She rarely got excited about anything other than boys and shopping. "What did they name it?"

"White dragon! Your favorite!"

* * *

She didn't pack much. She only expected to be gone for two days at the most. She wasn't sure what she would find. In truth she highly doubted that the mysterious figure in her photo would be there. That was just improbably and highly absurd. She ended up taking two bags worth. One with a few extra clothes and hygiene objects, the other her camera and equipment. She grabbed her penny bank, one she kept since she was a kid, shaking out a few coins and bills to fill her gas tank up and grab a drink for the ride. Before she locked the front door she quickly remember the photo and returned inside for a second to grab it. 

It was the only visual map she had.

The hours passed by with every tree that whizzed by her window. She drove for hours, eventually leaving the main highway to trek down a country road that was quite curvy. After awhile, the countryside began to filter away while the trees became more and more condense. Soon she was in the heart of the forest, driving faster than she should, her music pounding through the speakers.

She felt good to be out in the woods. The city sometimes seemed too small and cramp for her. However, her choice college had brought here there, and the cliental kept her. She rolled her window down part way to let the fresh forest air in, whipping her long soft hair around. She laughed, pushing it to the side so it wouldn't get in her face while driving.

She wore simple faded jeans, handed down by Yukiko, and simple black v-neck. She often felt her look was plain and non-trendy, but it was all she could afford. However, trendy clothes weren't necessary for Chihiro. She had grown into a beautiful young lady. Her long dark hair framed her face with soft features. She was slightly curvy, fully feminine and desirable. Through high school and college both, Chihiro had her fair share of pursuits, however; she could not bring herself to be in a relationship. Instead she kept her focus on work and studying traditional spirituality for her photo book.

Chihiro started to slow down, finding the road quite familiar and close to her parent's home. She pulled onto a gravel road that whipped through the forest. She followed it for a good thirty minutes until she came to dead end. Putting her car into park she grabbed her camera bag and slowly got out. It felt good to stretch. The forest air was intoxicating. She always got a strange sensation when she was in this general region. She glanced up to see the sun making its way towards the mountain peaks in the east. She better get a move on while there was still sunlight.

She walked for a good twenty odd minutes through the familiar trail. It ended up at a waterfall, according to the 'park-map' at the gravel roundabout dead end where her car was park. She never made it that far, always opting for a better picture before she made it to the destination. Besides, she always felt waterfalls made for a cliché picture.

The birds chirped as she walked by, causing Chihiro to smile. She opted to put on her deep gray button up sweater, as the air was slightly chillier than she expected. She sighed with relief as she saw the creek in view as the camera bag was weighing down on her shoulder. The smooth crystal clear water cut through the land like a silky ribbon. The tall green grass stood around it, an occasional flower scattered here and there. The tall Douglas firs stood like ancient gods around the sacred place. She felt goose bumps spread throughout her arm and the hair on her neck stand up.

This was certainly a holy place.

Finally she came into view of the spirit stone that stood facing the water. It was three and half feet tall and two feet wide. Rounded with a stout expression, it was almost charming as it was alarming. As though it was an old lost friend, Chihiro ran her hand over the top, sighing as she looked out over the creak.

She smiled grimly, realizing there was indeed, no male. She almost laughed out loud. What was she thinking? Of course he wouldn't be there. And it he had been, what would she have done then? Say hello, how do you do? And go on her way?

It had rained earlier that day, as for the greenery glistened with the raindrops still soaking into the earth against the setting sun's glow. It was perfect for a picture. She could only imagine what the sparking drops would look like in the black and white photos. She set up her tri-pod that sat no higher than four feet. Clipping on her camera, she adjusted her aperture and shutter speed before focusing her camera on the spirit stone. To mimic her previous photo, she framed the photo so that the spirit stone would be in the far left of the photo, the blurred nature in the background as a mixture of greens for a backdrop.

Pressing the shutter release button she captured what she thought, with a smug smile, was the perfect photo.

Chihiro noticed something then that she had not noticed before. Quickly she bent down by the spirit stone, brushing aside some of the tall grass that had grown about its base. There, carved into the lower back, was a thin and curvy dragon with the characters carved underneath, "Great White Dragon."

She felt her stomach do a flip, as her heart began to pace.

It was all just a coincidence. Maybe she was reading too much into it. Deeming herself as a foolish girl with a crazy and idle mind, she stood back up and tried to shrug it off. With a few more or less interesting shots, she packed up her camera and tri-pod. While she did so, she gave one more glance around the place, mentally rolling her eyes at herself while she felt disappointed not to see a certain handsome figure standing about.

With one last sigh, she pulled her bag up around her shoulder, buttoned the last button of her sweater, and turned on her heel to make it back to her car. If she walked quickly she might make it before the sun dropped fully beneath the mountains.

Chihiro opted for a hotel rather than her parent's home. She couldn't quite place it, but ever since she was about ten years old, she felt distance begin to grow between her and her parents. In truth, she began to feel distant to many things. She didn't open up as much, kept quiet, focused on schoolwork and her studies. Her fascination with white dragons seemed to appear from nowhere, and lead her into the obsession of anything to do with spirits. She begged her parents to take her to the local temple every week, and wore every kind of charm there was to purchase as such places.

Chihiro would spend all day Saturday reading up on the traditional spirits of the natural world. She learn to study all the names, all the origins, all the history and myths behind them. Her parents are first deemed it as a childhood fantasy of fairytales and fascination. Yet as she grew older and became more of an expert in the field, they began to discuss options for a career such as teacher of mythology at the local community college.

Yet Chihiro was always one to do the unexpected. Instead of pursing mythology and spirituality as the focus of her career, she chose something as flimsy as photography to the pay the bills, focusing only on her passion as a side project for a book. While her parents would be proud of anything she did, it did cause tension between Chihiro and her father especially.

And so Chihiro decided to stay in a hotel to avoid the onslaught of questions her mother and father would shoot her way from everything to how she was faring financially to whether or not a boy had taken an interest in her. A twenty-dollar hotel would do nicely.

Chihiro drove slightly out of her way to the nearest photo developing shop. She requested for the one-hour photo processing for the film and set of one prints. Chihiro stopped at the local market while she waited for the prints. She ordered a bowl of Domburi and grabbed a few chilled onigiri while she waited for a few minutes for the ordered dish. Finally her order was called and the clerk gave her the hot bowl that was dark red with a white dragon printed on the side. She gave the clerk a look who merely smiled in return. Giving him a few spare coins she made her way out of the market without a word and hurried to the run down hotel down the street.

Checking in and grabbing her bags, Chihiro found the door with the lopsided twelve and went in. The hotel smelled of musk and dew, along with an overly strong vanilla air freshener. She smiled grimly at the bright pink velvet bed set and over the top red lampshades.

It was certainly a room of character, that was for sure.

Putting everything on the floor by the door, she turned around and headed back to the photo shop, onigiri in hand. She couldn't ignore the aching hunger in her stomach.

Once at the photo shop, she paid quickly, said goodnight, and headed back to the hotel. She didn't think once about looking at the photos just yet.

Getting back to the hotel, she pinned up her hair with the same purple hair tie and decided to dress into her nightgown she brought along. It was a silk shift Yukiko had given her as well, and though it was sexier than she needed, it was more comfortable than any cotton pj could ever be.

Chihiro popped the Domburi into the cheap and dirty microwave –compliments of the twenty-dollar hotel- and sat on the edge of her bed with the photos. As she flipped through them, satisfied with the results in general, her heart jumped into her throat when she came to the spirit stone.

There, clad in the same outfit, was the transparent man, hovering above the water.

The beep of the microwave caused her to jump just slightly.

She pressed a hand to her chest, as though that would calm the beating of her heart. She closed her eyes, took a few calming breaths before opening her eyes only to look into the eyes of mysterious man in the picture. The intensity in his eyes caused a strange sensation to spread out from her gut to her thighs. Why did she not see him when she was there? Certainly she wouldn't have missed that.

The microwave beeped angrily again, but Chihiro had lost all of her appetite.

She fingered the white dragon on his robe in the picture. She couldn't deny the strange familiarity. Tomorrow she would hunt the handsome face down, she was determined. She sat back on the bed, reaching for the remote. As the screen flickered to life, a young reporter smiled brillantly, "And the White Dragon has been deemed by scientist as the biggest surprise of the year."

Chihiro lifted a brow as a picture of the white blazing comet came into view.

Surprise indeed.

* * *

**t.b.c.**

thank you for reading and reviewing.

-blurr


	2. Part Two

* * *

**Follow the White Dragon**

_Part Two_

written by blurr

* * *

The morning had barely spread its arms over the land when Chihiro woke up. Not a bird chirped, not a store in the local region was up; everything was still tucked away into the night. Her eyes felt puffier than usual. Her body screamed for coffee. At least some things would always remain constant. She sat up in the bed, fumbling for the lamp switch. The light flooded the room causing her to squint and moan slightly. 

Grabbing the obnoxious velvet pink blanket, she wrapped it around her body tightly and padded quietly across the hotel room to the coffee maker, ignoring the cold bite of the moss green tile flooring. The pot still had circular stains from the previous use, but not even a few dirty marks could keep her from the must havemorning drink. She fitted the filter in neatly, and reached for the complimentary coffee packet stopping only as she realized what kind it was.

It was improbable that the hotel would carry White Dragon Coffee Co, considering it was one of the more expensive brews. But sure enough, there it was, packaged neatly in its dark blue foil wrapper with the bright white letters of 'White Dragon Coffee Mocha Express' written across it.

"Of course it would be White Dragon." She said to no one in particular.

Chihiro stared at the blue foil wrapper for a second longer than necessary. Biting her lip, she opened it at the 'tear here' and poured out more than what the usual person would desire, into the filter.

She would need an extra strong brew for this mental trip.

Chihiro showered, groaning when the hot water went to lukewarm just minutes after turning on, and colder yet awhile more. The water did nothing to smooth away the tension in her shoulders and back. She washed away the filth that seemed to developed overnight with the tiny shampoo and conditioner placed in her complimentary basket. It smelled of the old lavender bar soaps her grandmother kept.

She stood there in the shower, ignoring the sting of the cold water, as she massaged her neck with her fingers. Mentally she went through each coincidence of the white dragons. Surely they were just coincidences, she reasoned. First there was the apron, but what was so strange about that? Everyone knew she was fascinated with white dragons every since she was a kid. Her parents more than anyone else knew how far the obsession went. And she had her apron for quite awhile; being it was a moving out gift from her mother.

And then there was the comet. Yukiko described the unexpected comet as a big white blaze in the sky. Surely the name of 'white dragon' fit naturally. Right?

And then the hot Domburi in the market store. Hadn't she seen the red little cartons with the white dragons on the side at other market stores? She was sure she had. It must have been a mass produced restaurant and food alike container; like the Chinese cartons that all looked alike.

But then there was the mysterious figure in the picture with the white dragon stitched into his hakama pants, and the spirit stone with the little dragon carved into the lower back that stared out over the creak.

Was that a coincidence? It had to be a fluke.

Chihiro wasn't so confident that it was.

It wasn't until another hour that Chihiro was ready to leave. Hair dried and loosely styled, she wore the simple clothing she wore the night before however she added a dark black scarf her mother had knitted for her years ago. The sun had yet to raise its head to warm the land, but a small glow was beginning to spread out from behind the mountains.

Right when Chihiro put her car keys into the door the first bird chirped. It seemed that the world was waking up finally. Now that she had taken the road several times to the desolate woods, it seemed to move by quicker. It could have been that she drove slightly faster than usual. One could say it was the tension she was driving through.

She had the print she did back in her bathroom sitting on the passenger seat with the photo from the night before lined up next to it. While different in artistic measures, the composition was relatively the same. Each had the spirit stone in the far side, with the mysterious figure hovering around the same area, staring right out of the picture so intensely that Chihiro could barely bring herself to look at it.

Finally she came to the deadend roundabout. She parked her car, turned the engine off, and grabbed her camera bag along with the two pictures in one fluid motion. Stepping out, she pulled the bag around her shoulder and held the pictures to her chest. The morning light was beginning to grow quicker as the forest rustled with waking up. She smiled, despite herself. The familiar warm sensation of being 'home' swept through her. She sighed it off and began to make her way down the trail with the sign posted 'Cherry Blossom Falls.' Perhaps today she would see the waterfall after all.

The frost bitten ground seemed to crackle with each step. It was slippery at times, and once she nearly lost her footing. The steep slope down to the creak seemed impossible yet, but she managed to take slow and careful steps. She felt pretty proud of herself until she was a few steps from the creak and tripped on what must have been a small log or large rock.

Before she could let out a small scream, two strong arms around her waist kept her from falling face first into the creek. Chihiro felt like sighing with relief until she realized that there was, indeed, someone holding her from behind. She froze instantly, taking shallow breaths. Her rescuer held her captive longer than necessary.

She was about to ram her elbow into their chest to fight for freedom when a deep male voice innocently whispered in her ear, "Chihiro?"

Chihiro pulled away to confront the male voice when she froze dead in her tracks. There, standing before her was the mysterious figure from her photos. He was even more handsome up close. He only wore dark green trousers that sure enough had a white dragon stitched on the bottom of the left leg. His upper torso seemed to shine from the water on his skin glistening from the reflection of the sunrise. His hair was soaked and stuck to his neck and face. He hadn't shaved for what seemed to be a few days, the gruff only making him seem more appealing.

Chihiro blushed at the tone of her thoughts and cleared her throat.

"Have we met?" Despite her efforts, her voice still seemed to wavier slightly.

The man seemed slightly disappointed and hurt with her.

"Apparently not," he slightly moved as though he meant to turn, "Forgive me."

She wrapped her hands around herself, in efforts to create a bit of warmth. "No need to apologize. We all make mistakes." He stopped and turned back to look at her. His stare was too intense; it made her uncomfortable and transparent. She glanced out over the creek, catching sight of the spirit stone that merely seemed to gawk back at her. She frowned at it, and turned back to the stranger before her.

"I wasn't aware that anyone lived down here." She decided perhaps if she made light talk with him, she could learn more about him than directly asking the stranger about the odd pictures.

He ran a hand through his hair, pulling out the excess water. "Not many are."

He didn't seem to offer much information, Chihiro realized with disappointment.

"Do many people bother you?" Like me, she thought with an inward wince.

He kept his gaze on her, carefully watching Chihiro as though he could read her thoughts. "No." He said after a moment. Then, as though he was snapped from his trance he glanced away and ran his hand through his hair again. "No, not many people come down this way. You've made more appearances in the last few weeks then we get in a handful of years."

Ah. So she got him there. "So you have seen me?" She asked with a small smile.

"Of course." He offered lamely. "There isn't much that goes on here at the creek that I'm not aware of."

Chihiro wasn't sure what he meant by that. She glanced at the creek, its musical sounds luring and thoughtful. She turned back at to the stranger, unnerved slightly at how careful he had been watching her.

"Do you make trips to the town often?" She asked, trying not to watch the way the water dripped from his skin to the ground below. He must be freezing, she thought. He would get sick.

"No." He quickly replied. He smirked and crossed his arms, almost mimicking her. "No, I never go into town."

"Never?" She repeated, focusing back on his eyes. They were deep and almost ageless. Surely she could lost in his stare. "Surely you must go into two to get food and supplies from time to time."

"I'm sufficient on my own." He cut in with a strange sense of authority.

An awkward silence fell between the two. Chihiro wanted to outright ask him about the strange pictures but she couldn't get the guts to say what she wanted to say. Finally, taking a deep breath she merely offered a, "I'm sorry to disturb you. I should leave."

The man seemed confused for a second before he reached out and softly touched her arm. Chihiro couldn't explain it, but just his soft touch awoke a strange desire that spread out through her thighs and lower stomach. She glanced carefully at his own eyes who seemed to only stare back. His fingers moved forward so that the palm of his entire hand rested on her arm. She turned to face him fully with a question in her look.

"Perhaps you would enjoy a cup of tea before you return?" It was innocent sounding enough. Chihiro couldn't shake off the strange familiarity of the man. Brushing aside the fact that this was a complete stranger in the woods, she felt completely safe with him. That surprised her the most. She struggled trusting her closest relatives, not to mention unfamiliar people.

She nodded slowly and said softly, "I would like that, thank you."

For the first time the mysterious man smiled, causing Chihiro to have one of her own. He turned on his heel, pulling his hand down to hold her own, and said, "Come. It's only a few minutes walk. Be careful of your steps."

And she was. She certainly didn't want another trip.

Chihiro couldn't help but notice how natural it seemed for him to hold her hand as they walked through the maze of trees and bushes. His hand was warm and soothing for her numb fingers.

"What do you do down here?" She asked after a moment.

The man kept his eyes fixed ahead but commented, "I'm the keeper."

"Keeper?" Chihiro asked. He just kept getting more and more complex. "Keeper of what?"

The man laughed softly, something she wondered if he did often having no one around to make him smile like so.

"Yes, the keeper of the creek of course." He nodded over to the left where the creak kept its course.

"Oh." Chihiro said, although she really didn't understand. Why would a creek need a keeper? What did such a job entitle? Did he clean the garbage out like some people are paid to keep rivers clean? But hadn't he commented no one came down there often. What garbage would there be? Chihiro thought it rude to question his profession so instead she kept her lips firmly shut as she tried desperately to follow him without slipping.

The little cabin came in view just minutes after following the awkward trail alongside the creek. It was cozy looking, that was for sure. Dropped behind the cabin was a wall of trees that merely thickened into a more condensed forest. He certainly lived out in the middle of nowhere. There was fire already burning Chihiro noticed, as the dark gray smoke rose from the brick stone chimney.

The trail became a gravel pathway, flowers of all sorts lining the way. A shishi-odoshi sat next to the window of the cabin, filling with water and releasing so the bamboo spout would hit the bottom of the container that was lined with rocks; creating a resonate knocking sound. It fashioned a rhythmic lure, along with the bamboo wind chimes. Two long rain chains framed the entry door, each cup filled to the brim with water. Underneath each was a copper like basin with a bamboo spout and pump. She noticed there were a handful of sheep on the right side of the cabin, not contained by any structures. He certainly lived a very traditional lifestyle.

"Its beautiful," Chihiro murmured softly. The man stopped and turned half way, giving Chihiro a curious look. At the warmth in her smile towards his cabin, he in return smiled.

"Come, I'll get you warm." And with that he tugged on her hand, and led her down the gravel path.

The cabin itself was small but endearing. The log cabin, much like her apartment, was rather one large room. A small mat made of hay and sheep fur sat in the back corner, while an extremely cozy looking couch sat prominent in the room, facing the fire place. Several bookshelves lined the back wall, filled with an assortment of reading material. Above the fireplace there was two long Samarai swords. Chihiro couldn't help but notice the characters for dragon printed neatly in fine gold lettering on each handle. She turned back to the man who was standing in the small alcove of a kitchen. There was an older sink with a bamboo spout and pump much like the one in the basins outside the door; two wooden cabinets mounted the wall above the structure. Next to the sink was an old wooden table with two matching chairs. The floor had a large fur-like rug lining the majority of the room.

"Its very cozy." She said, smiling when the man looked her way with an agreeing shrug.

"Have a seat by the fire." He nodded towards the couch as he himself filled a copper like kettle with water from the pump. Chihiro sat, enjoying the way she seemed to just melt into the cushion. It was a hundred times better than her brown rugged couch back at her home where the springs in the cushions fought back. She watched as the handsome man crossed the room and hung the kettle on a lined metal stick that stood halfway through the fire. He sat, attending the flames with a short probe.

What a life he must lead, Chihiro thought. And suddenly she found herself envious. What she would do to live out here in the peace and safety of the forest. She could curl up all day long on the highly welcoming and comforting couch, drinking hot tea and reading a good book while the stranger boy would go and catch them dinner.

She smiled at the thought.

"What brings you to my creak?" He asked after a moment after her silence.

Chihiro frowned. It was now or never for her to confess the truth.

"Well," She began slowly glancing down at her lap. She could feel his intense gaze and felt at lost for words.

"Certainly your work?" He asked.

She glanced up and he nodded to her camera bag sitting next to her on the couch. She glanced over at it and thought for a moment. "I guess you could say that."

He seemed satisfied with such a question.

"How did you know my name?" Chihiro blurted out after a moment.

The stranger responded quietly, "I thought you were someone I once knew."

"Oh?" She asked. "I don't know many Chihiros."

"Neither do I." came the dry reply.

Chihiro bit her bottom lip and crossed her arms. He seemed rather disappointed that she wasn't the same girl he once knew.

"Was she a friend?" She asked after a moment.

The man looked off, smiling softly to himself. "Yes, you could say that."

Chihiro glanced around, unsure what to say next until a brilliant question came to mind. "Hey, what is your name?"

The man stared silently at her for a moment, as though to ponder the right answer before he responded harmlessly, "Haku."

And then the kettle screamed.

* * *

**t.b.c.**

thank you for reading. tell me what you think so far.

-blurr


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